


An Avocado Christmas

by whitchry9



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Accidental Fire, Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Holidays, Identity Reveal, Secret Identity, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four people who know that Matt is Daredevil, and one who doesn't, all at one Christmas party. Also featuring silly hats, ugly sweaters, and a secret santa.</p>
<p>How can it go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Avocado Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> For an adorable Christmas prompt: http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/6237.html?thread=12187485#cmt12187485
> 
> ~~Let's ignore the fact that Foggy may be Jewish, shall we?~~

“More to the left I think,” Matt said.

Karen stared at him. “Really?”

Matt shrugged.

“You know,” Foggy said thoughtfully, “I think he's right.”

Karen rolled her eyes at Foggy, but shifted the tree a little to the left.

“Yep,” Claire agreed. “That's much better.”

Santino, who had been thoroughly briefed on who was in the know and who wasn't, brandished his spoon at Matt. “I don't know how he does it.”

Matt shrugged. “Gotta make up for being blind somehow.”

“And you do that by being able to hear when a Christmas tree is in the perfect position?” Karen asked, skeptical.

Matt grinned. “I could tell you the science behind it, but I'd rather not.”

Karen huffed at him. “I'm still not letting you help decorate.”

Matt held his hands up. “I'm not really bothered by that.”

“At least with the tree lights on, you'll have some lights in your apartment,” Foggy muttered.

“I don't need lights,” Matt said loudly.

“Yes, but us, your friends, do. So invest in a few bulbs so that we can at least change them when we come over,” Foggy quipped.

Karen tossed another handful of tinsel on the tree.

Matt groaned. “Is that tinsel I hear? I hate tinsel,” he muttered, turning back to the stove. Santino was at his side mixing the congealing gravy.

“You don't have to look at it, so don't complain,” Claire told him.

“I'm going to have to clean it,” Matt muttered, chopping some onions in rapid fire motions and dumping them into the pot Santino was stirring. “That's going to need to simmer a bit longer,” he told him.

Santino nodded and turned the burner on.

Matt checked the potatoes as Claire placed the angel on top of the tree. Foggy finished stringing his popcorn onto a string, and attempted to place it on the tree, amidst all the tinsel Karen was continuing to throw on it. Claire attempted to steal a taste of the gravy, but her hand was slapped away by the wooden spoon Matt was holding.

“Damn,” she muttered. “Didn't know you were so possessive in the kitchen.”

Matt gestured to his apron, which Foggy had given him for their last Christmas.

“Yeah, yeah, 'Queen of the Kitchen',” Claire huffed.

Matt's eyebrows shot up. “What?” he squeaked.

Claire burst out laughing. “You should see your face. Foggy told me to say that. It actually says 'boss of the sauce'.”

Matt puffed up his chest a bit. “Yes. I am. Get your hands out of my pot,” he growled.

Claire snatched her hands back and slunk back to the living room and reluctantly threw some tinsel on the tree as well, glaring at Matt the whole time.

 

“Karen was the one who burnt the cookies,” Foggy pointed out.

“Matt's oven is stupid,” she grumbled.

 

“Don't blame my oven,” Matt warned her. “I could smell them burning and you told me that they just needed a few more minutes.”

“That's what the recipe said,” Karen huffed.

“A good cook doesn't just listen to the recipe,” Matt told her.

“Oh please, this is the first time I've ever seen you cook anything decent,” Claire told him. “Besides breakfast, and that doesn't really count.”

“Oh, just ask Foggy about all the breakfasts I made during law school.”

“They were kind of a talking point among the ladies.”

Matt huffed and rolled his eyes. “He jests.”

Foggy shook his head.

 

“Hey, is Marci coming?” Karen asked.

“Nah,” Foggy said. “She got a better offer apparently.”

“Not sure how that is possible, but okay,” Karen grinned.

“Yes, how could anything be better than burnt sugar cookies, a horrifying Christmas tree, a Christmas dinner cooked by a blind man, and a secret santa with a limit of $10?”

“Hey, Santino is helping me with the food,” Matt said, sounding hurt. “And my tree better not look horrible.”

Everyone except Matt eyed the tree, which was covered in blue lights that hurt to look at, assorted colours of tinsel, a single popcorn garland, a mishmash of ornaments, and a pickle.

“It doesn't,” Foggy said, at the exact same time Santino said “It does.”

Matt huffed and focused his attention on mashing potatoes, which he did with a lot of vigour. “I hate all of you,” he muttered.

Santino shifted uncomfortably but continued to stir the gravy.

 

“Speaking of decorations, Karen and I brought those window decals to brighten up the place. We're gonna stick them all over the windows in the hopes that it covers some of the glow from the billboard.”

“Not like it matters to me,” Matt replied.

 

Claire helped them cover most of the windows, and Santino continued to help Matt with the meal. Soon, everything was cooked and almost ready to be served.

 

“Okay, Foggy come carve the turkey,” Matt said, pulling it out of the oven and setting it on the counter. The potatoes were already in a serving dish, the gravy in a boat, the corn and carrots in another dish, and the buns pre-buttered. All that was left was the turkey.

 

Foggy rolled up the sleeves of his ugly sweater and accepted the large carving knife.

“My mother would be so proud,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling before attacking the bird with zeal.

 

He loaded a plate up with slices of turkey, and everyone helped carry the dishes to the table. It was a bit difficult to seat five at a table that was really only good for two, but Matt pulled out his folding chairs and they squished in to make it work. The tree was at their back, the glow of the billboard slightly dulled by the window decals.

 

“I brought the Christmas crackers,” Karen chirped. She handed one to everyone, and pulled on hers immediately.

“Ooh, a pink hat, nice,” Claire told her, scooping potatoes onto her plate. She made Santino hold one end of her cracker and pulled on the other end. She shrieked as it popped and she nearly slipped off her chair. “I got a green one!”

Santino got a blue hat, Foggy got a green one too. Matt's was red, of course.

 

They all donned their hats and filled their plates, and before anyone could take a bite, Matt looked up.

“Would anyone like to say grace?”

“It's all you buddy,” Foggy told him, patting him on the back.

 

They all bowed their heads.

 

“Lord, thank you for the food before us, the friends beside us, and the love between us. Thank you for allowing us to do what we love, in a city that we can help keep safe, and thank you for watching over us during this past year. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone echoed.

Just as they were about to look up again, Matt's head snapped up. “The tree's on fire,” he said, jumping out of his chair and practically speeding to the kitchen, where he grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink.

By then, everyone else had looked up, and were surprised to see that the tree was in fact on fire.

“Jesus,” Foggy said, grabbing his napkin and attempting to smother the fire, only managing to catch the sleeve of his ugly sweater on fire.

 

Matt sprayed the fire extinguisher liberally over the tree and Foggy's arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked as soon as the foam settled.

Foggy blinked and examined his arm. “I think so?”

Matt ran his hand over Foggy's arm.

“It's burnt. Go run it under cold water and Claire can take a look at it.”

“I don't know how you do that,” Foggy muttered, but headed to the bathroom, shaking some of the foam off on his way.

 

“How did you know it was on fire?” Karen asked, coming out of her trance.

“Smelled it burning,” Matt told her. “This is why I told you decorating the tree would be a bad idea,” he huffed. “You set the popcorn on fire.”

“Those lights are supposed to be energy efficient,” Foggy yelled from the bathroom where he was running the burn on his arm under cold water.

“Well they're clearly not,” Matt yelled back. He shuffled back to the kitchen and replaced the fire extinguisher.

“There's foam everywhere,” Karen told him. “Be careful you don't slip.”

“That would be just my luck,” Matt replied, grabbing a broom from the corner. He held it, standing in front of the tree. “Can I get some help here?”

 

Santino jumped up and took the broom from Matt. “I got it,” he told him.

“Thanks,” Matt sighed. “Is the tree ruined?”

Claire hummed. “The popcorn strand definitely is, and the part that caught on fire is... a little bit burnt.”

“The burnt part is surprisingly burnt,” Karen added.

“And it's covered in foam,” Claire finished. “Definitely salvageable, but who knows if you want to try.”

Matt shrugged. “Foggy, how's your hand?” he called into the bathroom.

Foggy emerged, hand still dripping. “Eh, not too bad. Claire, can you just make sure I'm not dying?”

She scoffed, but got up anyway. “Not bad,” she agreed. “Mostly first degree, a few spots that might blister. Your sweater definitely took the worst of it,” she said, gesturing to the melted sleeve.

“And I was so fond of this ugly sweater,” Foggy sighed.

“It was pretty nice,” Matt replied, deadpan.

Santino snickered, sweeping the remains of the foam into the dust pan Matt had handed him.

“Just throw that in the sink for now, and we'll get back to our dinner.”

They all sat down again.

 

“Perhaps an addendum to the earlier grace, thank you Lord for keeping us safe, and also thank you that festivities such as this only come once a year. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone echoed again, and this time, nothing caught on fire.

They tucked in.

 

“Surprisingly good,” Karen commented, after most of the food had been consumed.

Matt rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. I didn't do it alone, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm mostly thanking Santino for not allowing you to use baking soda instead of salt.”

“I wouldn't have,” Matt muttered. “I would have noticed.”

“Sure thing buddy,” Foggy said, patting him on the back reassuringly.

 

“Okay, ugly sweater contest,” Karen declared. “Then we can do presents.” She got to her feet and clapped her hands. “Entries will be judged on three components- visual appearance, texture, and overall meaning. Matt gets the final say on texture, since he can't really help with the visual appearance. Alright, pens to paper everyone, let's do this. Claire, you're up first.”

 

Foggy commentated the mini fashion show.

“Claire is wearing a blue sweater with decorations and trees along the top, text reading 'don't be tachy', with what I'm assuming is an abnormal heart rhythm?”

“Ventricular tachycardia,” Claire confirmed, spinning for them.

“Texture is actually nice,” Matt concluded, feeling the material.

“Hmm, no points for that then. Texture points are for terrible textures and materials like wool,” Foggy announced. “Karen next.”

Karen modelled her sweater, which featured a tyrannosaurus opening a present which held a teddy bear. The dinosaur looked thrilled. “It's itchy as hell,” she told them, which Matt confirmed.

Foggy was wearing a tasteful wool sweater that featured reindeer having sex. The sleeve was indeed a bit burnt and/or melted, which he made them swear would have no effect on the judging.

Santino's sweater seemed homemade, featuring a Christmas tree made out of yarn and little bells for decorations that jingled every time he moved. It was also apparently the worst feeling fabric that Matt had ever had the misfortune to touch. He would be getting top points in that category.

Matt went last, revealing that there was an indeed an ugly sweater underneath his apron. It was dark blue and featured two Christmas ornaments with text that read 'balls'. He admitted it was actually made of cashmere because he couldn't stand the feel of wool.

 

Everyone took a minute with their notes, and it was Karen who tallied up the scores.

“Okay,” she said after a minute. “The winner is...” she paused for dramatic effect “Foggy! Congratulations. I told you your burnt sleeve wouldn't have any effect on the judging.”

“What do I win?”

“Shame, and the title. We'll see if you can defend it next year or not.”

Foggy nodded. “Good enough for me. Presents now?” he asked hopefully.

Karen laughed. “I suppose.”

 

They would exchange more personalized presents later, but for their dinner they planned a secret Santa, with a gift limit of ten dollars.

Matt patted his pockets. “Oh, my present is under the bed. I'll be right back.”

“Good thing it wasn't under the tree, huh Matt?” Foggy called.

Matt scoffed, his head already under the bed as he reached around blindly (ha) for it.

“Do you need help Matt?” Karen called.

“Nah, I got it,” he called back, his voice muffled.

She got up anyway, just as he emerged, a dust bunny on his head, and a beautifully wrapped present in his hands. The bow was slightly off to the side, and Matt adjusted it.

 

He headed back to the kitchen, nearly running into Karen as he did.

“Oh, sorry,” he muttered. “But I told you I was fine.”

She brushed the dust bunny off of his head, and he smiled, and continued on towards the kitchen, this time at least feeling for the couch to place himself in the room, mostly for Karen's benefit. She had enough doubts with regards to the fire extinguisher incident. His speed could be explained away by him knowing his apartment pretty well, but he didn't want to give her any more evidence.

 

“Matt, what's this?” Karen asked, poking at the part of Matt's Daredevil suit that was sticking out from under the bed. He must have pulled it out a bit when he grabbed the present.

Matt froze, facing the others in the kitchen, all of whom were just as shocked.

Foggy muttered under his breath “I thought you would have hid that better,” just low enough that only Matt could hear it.

“Not sure what you're talking about Karen,” he said smoothly. “I've got a Santa suit that I was going to bring out later.”

Karen continued to pull the suit out from under Matt's bed. “This... This is not a Santa suit Matthew. This is... Oh my god.” She held the whole thing up in front of her. “This is Daredevil's costume. Where the hell did you get this?”

Matt grimaced and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Karen sighed. “Oh god. The fire, and now this. How did I not see this coming. Matt, are you Daredevil?”

Matt smoothed the bow on the package once more before thinking of what to say. “It was a secret,” he said finally.

Karen clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god I'm so sorry. I ruined everything didn't I?” she asked, looking around the room at the others.

They tried to look shocked, to various degrees, and failed miserably.

 

She glanced between all of them. “Am I seriously the only one here who didn't know?”

Everyone looked away guiltily, and Matt shrugged.

“Merry Christmas?” he said, handing her the present.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fyi, Matt -> Karen -> Claire -> Foggy -> Santino -> Matt for the secret Santa.
> 
> Ugly sweaters that I've mentioned can be found here: http://ijustreallylovedaredevil.tumblr.com/sweaters
> 
> I actually have the tachy one, and I've worn it for about the past three weeks straight. :D


End file.
